


Before the Piper Called

by Bethynyc



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Torchwood
Genre: Crossover, M/M, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-10
Updated: 2011-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-14 15:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bethynyc/pseuds/Bethynyc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the Great War, Walter Blythe has a brief leave in London before being shipped to the trenches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before the Piper Called

_Dearest Rilla-my-Rilla,_

 _After training long and hard in the countryside, our regiment has two whole days of leave in London of all places! I plan to see as much as I can—Westminster, the British Museum, perhaps tour the Tower—and I shall be sure to tell you all about it._

 _How sad to think of this city, this marvelous old city still bustling about its business, while not far from here are battlefields where the young men of Canada and Great Britain are..._

Walter tapped the end of his pen against his chin. He didn't want to write about the dying and wounded soldiers of the battlefield to his sweet sister, but those thoughts filled his head. He hoped the historical and literary wonders of London would distract him, give him something else to write about. But the words would not come.

“Penny for your thoughts?” The flat tones of an American accent intruded into his musing, and Walter looked up to see a handsome man with knowing blue eyes and Captain's bars on his shoulders.

Walter stood and saluted. “Sir!”

“At ease, soldier.” The captain smiled and gestured for Walter to return to his seat. “Just wondering why you're still here when all your mates are out carousing.”

Walter relaxed enough to sit. “Not much for drinking, sir. Thought I'd see the sights.”

The captain nodded and held out his hand. “Captain Jack Harkness, volunteer trainer.”

Walter shook his hand. “Private Walter Blythe, Canadian Corps.”

“Letter to a sweetheart?” Harkness tapped the page.

“My sister. I've promised to tell her about the sights of London.”

At that, Captain Harkness grinned. “Well, then today is your lucky day! I happen to be an excellent tour guide, and love seeing the sights through new eyes.”

With that, they set off on a whirlwind tour of London. The first day was taken up by The British Museum, which Harkness insisted would take the most time, and was completely right. Only the presence of a superior officer kept Private Blythe from losing the rest of his leave.

The next day was dedicated to more literary places, and Walter didn't mind being dragged all over as long as he had the chance to soak up the poetic atmosphere once they arrived. He was enchanted by the hush around Poet's Corner and the simplicity of Samuel Johnson's house, before Jack (who insisted on being on a first name basis, rather than using ranks) dragged him into what he swore was the oldest pub in continual use since before the Black Plague.

“Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese? Are you serious?”

“Trust me.” said Jack, with a grin that made Walter uneasy. The food was filling and tasty, while the ale was very good, and went down much more smoothly than expected.

Perhaps it was the alcohol. Perhaps it was the knowledge that in two days he would be in France, fighting in trenches filled with mud and blood. Perhaps it was his mind putting together all the disparate moments of his time with Captain Jack Harkness, all his charming smiles and glances that lingered just a moment too long.

Walter noticed a dark side alley, and almost without thinking, grabbed Jack's arm and dragged him into the gloom. Jack was taller, but not by much, and Walter was able to push him against the bricks before leaning in to kiss...

Only to have Jack duck out of the way. “What?”

“What do you think, Jack?” When did his voice become so low? It must have been the ale.

Jack shook his head. “Walter, you don't want this. You must have a nice girl waiting for you in Canada.”

“Don't tell me what I don't want. And I don't have anyone...like that. I just have this _feeling_ that I'm not going to see the Island again.”

“Don't talk like that.” protested Jack.

Walter took a deep breath. “I'm a poet. Sometimes we know things. This, I know.” He moved closer to Jack, felt his breath on his face. “I'm going to a place of horror, pain, and misery. Let me have something good to remember. A kiss. That's all.”

Jack searched his face, and Walter gazed back. Whatever he was searching for, he found, because Jack leaned forward, and gently kissed him. It was far too brief, but the next was longer, and full of the passion that Walter had always known and hidden deep within his soul.

They kissed and kissed, frozen in time, until Big Ben struck the hour and they stepped apart reluctantly.

Captain Harkness escorted Private Blythe back to his billet, and saluted him before he turned and walked off into the darkness, wool coattails swirling behind him.

~*~*~*~

The next day, Walter boarded the train to the boat that would take him to France. He touched his lips, and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the livejournal community crossovers_las, round one. Prompt: [character] meets [character] whose the exact opposite of himself/herself from another fandom,


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